Looks Like Christmas
by Backinwonderland
Summary: Tom Fletcher loves to watch the first snowfall of every year in the park, and he meets a girl who loves to do the exact same thing.


**This was a request for the LOVELY ZealousZoe! I kind of just threw together the most fluffy and adorable and cute and awesome things I could think of and put them in a story haha. Hope you don't overload from the cuteness! LOVE!**

Wintertime has its ups and it has its downs, though I suppose it's like that with any season. I would love to be all cliché and sing jolly Christmas tunes for you (believe me, I truly would) but that's only half of what winter's all about. They tend to leave out the whole freeze-your-nuts-off part, and you can't forget about the dark-before-you-finish-your-lunch aspect of winter, too.

But even the grouchiest Scrooge or the grumpiest Grinch can't deny that the first snowfall of the season is the prettiest. The whole scene is just so relaxing, almost like a breath of fresh air or a deep sigh. It's like the earth is calming down from its normally hectic lifestyle

I love to be outside during the first snowfall. It's different than sitting and watching it from the living room window. I like to feel the snowflakes on my face and listen to the light patter as they hit the ground. It's a very grounding and humbling experience. It makes me feel human.

Unfortunately, this year's first snowfall decided to happen in the middle of the night. I'm pretty dedicated though, so I got out of bed, threw on some sweats, and rolled to the city park. I like to watch the snow from there. It doesn't get as mushy or dirty quite as fast as the grimy London streets.

It was nearly one in the morning but I had my warm cup of coffee in hand as the beautiful white flakes drifted down around me. I imagined that if heaven really existed, this must be what it looks like. Peaceful, quite, calm, and white. Almost like the world is frozen in time.

I sipped my coffee as I sat on the bench. The wood was cold and I could feel the chill through my pants but I didn't mind. The snow was falling pretty heavily and I watched as it started to pack together on the ground. There would probably be an abundance of snowmen lining the streets in the morning.

But suddenly something happened that I'd never experienced before. Normally when I go Snow Watching I'm absolutely alone. I've never shared the experience with anyone in my life (honestly, no one has ever been interested enough to watch snowflakes fall with me.) But there, gliding down the winding cobblestone sidewalk, was a girl in thick woolen stockings and a long purple overcoat. A tight knitted beanie had been forced over her brown curly hair, and in front of her face she held an expensive looking digital camera. She was clicking away, focusing the view directly upwards, to the left, to the right, down towards the ground… basically in every possible direction.

She was about to walk right by me. She didn't even seem to notice at first that I was sitting there. The girl was humming quietly to herself (Walking In A Winter Wonderland) and, God help me, I started whistling along.

I've never done anything quite so bold before. Ask any of my friends and they'll tell you the exact same thing. I mean, whistling a song isn't a _huge _deal, but normally I don't just engage a connection with random strangers (especially in the park at one in the morning.) I tend to stick with the polite head nod, nice smile, and continue on my way.

But for some reason I whistled along to her song. The noise broke her out of her little trance and she finally looked up at me, pausing before taking a picture of a branch covered in snow. She smiled, quirked an eyebrow, and flashed her camera my way, snapping _my _picture.

"You look like you belong here," she spoke with a very pretty voice. It was kind of floaty and calming. Kind of like Luna Lovegood's from Harry Potter.

"Is that a good thing?" I asked, unsure. Did I look like a hobo living on a park bench? Or did I look like Mother Nature chewed me up and spit me out with the snowfall?

"It's a very good thing," she smiled, snapping another picture. "You look like Christmas."

It was a very odd thing to say, though I assumed it was a compliment. She lowered her camera and I got a better look at her face. She looked almost like a fragile China Doll. Her big brown eyes seemed to be smiling all on their own and her lips were a deep shade of ruby red and shaped like a heart.

"How can a person look like Christmas? Isn't that what Santa is for?" I joked, imaging the jolly fat man with a white beard and rosy cheeks.

"Santa's the symbol for commercial Christmas. You're more like the real-deal," she nodded lightly, snapping a picture of a squirrel running up a tree before moving closer to the bench. Her walk was careful and almost shy, like she wasn't really sure of herself. She walked like that for a few seconds before she finally sat on the opposite end of the bench and took another picture of me.

"Well… thank you, I guess. Why are you taking my picture?" I had to ask. I mean, I'm used to people taking my picture by now but it was still very odd and surprising.

"I already told you. Because you look like Christmas."

"Do I? What does Christmas look like? A tired blonde in baggy clothes?"

There was a silent pause as the girl stared at me oddly. "That's funny!" Her eyes widened to the size of golf balls and she laughed a very genuine laugh, almost like she was surprised by my joke or something. "But Christmas can actually take many forms. It looks like that branch with snow on it, it looks like that squirrel collecting the last nuts of the season, and it looks like you with snowflakes in your hair and a mug in your hands. You look… caring." She seemed to be choosing her words carefully, making sure they were just the right ones. I flushed, slightly embarrassed. Was this girl a little bit mad? Had I met a loon?

"Well… thank you," I chuckled, trying to accept the compliment. It was hard though, seeing as I didn't know her at all so she had no way of knowing if I was caring or not.

"No need to thank me. It's a fact, not an opinion," she smiled to herself as she leaned back and began snapping pictures again. I frowned but didn't argue even though she was obviously wrong about the definition of an opinion.

"Why are you taking so many pictures?" I asked, watching her click away from her seat a few feet from me.

"_There is nothing in the world more beautiful than the forest clothed to its very hollows in snow. It is the still ecstasy of nature, wherein every spray, every blade of grass, every spire of reed, every intricacy of twig, is clad with radiance…_" Her voice trailed off as she stared unseeingly before her. Or maybe she _was _seeing something, and I just couldn't tell.

"Is that a quote?" I asked, feeling as if the words were too perfect for her to have just whipped them out on the spot.

"It's William Sharp. Great poet," she answered as she lifted the camera up and clicked another picture of the great pine tree in front of us.

"So you come out here in the winter and take pictures?" I asked, trying not to sound rude but utterly baffled. Sure _I_ came out to view the whole experience for the first time, but that was different. A photograph could never capture its beauty quite right.

"Usually only on the first snowfall," she responded as if it wasn't a big deal.

"Weird. Me too…" I frowned slightly, wondering how we'd never crossed paths before.

"You aren't taking pictures," she stated, lowering her camera to look at me closely. "You're just sitting there and watching."

"Well, yeah," I crossed my legs, feeling almost as if she was challenging me. "Only because I love to watch the snow. But I usually only come out at the first snowfall. That's why I said _me too_," I clarified, trying to justify myself.

"How come you only sit and watch? Don't you feel like you're wasting the experience if you don't document it somehow?" She almost sounded reproachful, like she was judging me for throwing away some precious treasure.

"Some things can't be documented. I wouldn't be able to do this whole scene justice." My honesty was brutal. I probably should've been upset with her bold questions, and I probably could've gotten away with being offended, but she didn't seem like she meant to be rude or offensive. She looked sincerely curious.

"I have whole photo albums at home just for the first snowfall pictures. I'll make sure to put you in my newest book…" her voice trailed off with an open ending, sounding almost like she wanted to know my name.

"Oh, I'm Tom. Tom Fletcher."

"Well you'll definitely be in there, _Tom Fletcher, the Man Who Looks Like Christmas_." She was smiling to herself as she clicked another picture of me.

I laughed and shook my head. I'd been called weirder things in my life.

"What about you? What are you called, then?"

"Oh, I'm Natasha Williams but you can just call me Nat, if you want," she said very business-like as she stuck out her mitten-covered hand for me to shake. I did so, grinning in amusement.

"Well Nat, it has been a pleasure to meet you. I've never shared the first snowfall with anyone before and this has definitely been an interesting experience," I commented lightly as I let her hand fall from mine. Her pretty smile widened.

"I feel slightly honored," she began as she let her camera hang around her neck, "being your first. My mum and I used to do this all the time, but she's got a bit of arthritis and it hurts for her to walk, so I take pictures for her instead. I'm going to tell her you were lovely," her eyes held mine for a few seconds as she grinned, her rosy cheeks flushing from the chilly weather.

"That's nice of you. I hope someone does that for me when I'm older," I responded, thinking that it was an awfully kind thing for a daughter to do.

"Yes well," Nat started as she randomly stood up, "If you stay friends with me I'll do it for you when we get old. Now, do you want to walk with me? That bench is getting dreadfully cold and I want to see more of the park," she offered me her hand as she smiled invitingly.

I almost resisted. I almost made up some excuse about having to get home because I had to work in the morning or some other lame lie. I _almost _did it.

"Yeah sure, let's go," I agreed, taking her hand and letting her pull me off the bench. She was much stronger than she looked.

We walked side by side through the winding park, talking idly about irrelevant things. It was strange though; the topics of our conversations were nothing serious or opinionating, yet she seemed to have such a unique way with words. I was captivated by the silliest of things.

"See that bush? I bet it gets quite lonely. All the other bushes are planted over there. He's all alone," she pointed to a single bush laden with a cap of icy snow. I laughed out loud at her innocent tone.

"Maybe when it's warmer someone will plant him some friends."

"I'll do it."

"I bet you would."

I could tell she was one of _those _people. The kind of person who was so unique there just literally couldn't be another one of them in the world. The kind of person who you would _need _to see, not because you needed company, but because they were themselves and brought something so original to the relationship that you couldn't find it anywhere else.

"Would you mind standing over there for me?" She nudged my elbow with hers as she lifted her camera to her face. I walked forwards and stood under the street light, letting the golden glow wash over me.

"This good?"

"Yeah but turn your back to me."

"Why? Is my face too ugly or something?"

"Sure, that's it. Now turn around," she replied exasperatedly, causing me to laugh again. I spun around, obeying her wishes.

"Can I see it?" I asked after a few seconds, going over to her to peek at the camera. She showed me the picture on the display.

I thought it was going to be an artsy display of my back in the streetlight, but really she'd managed to snag the moment in time when I'd laughed instead.

"I look like I want to cry," I joked.

"You look like _Christmas_," she insisted again as she turned the camera back to its photo mode and we continued on with our walk.

The time seemed to fly by. I hadn't been paying attention to my watch and suddenly the sun started rising. We were deep in the park, much farther than I normally go, and the snow had risen nearly six inches off the ground.

"Would you like to build a snowman with me?" Nat asked as she stopped in the middle of the walkway, looking at the quantity of snow covering the grass.

"Well, I…" I truly needed to get home and get some shut eye, but when I looked at her standing in front of the snow with flakes in her hair and a hopeful smile on her face, I couldn't say no.

"If you need to leave I understand-"

"I'd love to make a snowman with you," I interrupted her, taking the lead and stepping directly into the ankle-deep snow.

We worked pretty well together, if I do say so myself. She managed to roll a snowball large enough for the bottom, leaving me to make the medium sized one and the smaller one. Mine didn't come out as neat as hers did, but I still felt oddly proud of them.

"I can't tell you the last time I actually build a snowman," I laughed as we carefully set the head on the body.

"Really? I make one every year."

"You have some crazy winter traditions," I had to laugh. What _didn't _she do?

"_Winter's colors are that of the imagination," _Nat grinned as she used her finger to draw a smile on the snowman's head.

"Who said that?"

"My mother says it a lot. I don't know where she heard it," she replied, taking off her beanie cap and sticking it on the snowman. "There. Now he's warm," she smiled proudly at their creation.

The sun was just peaking up from behind the trees, casting a bright golden light behind her and making her whole head seem to glow with the arc of a halo. It was hard for me to look away.

"Can I borrow your camera?" I automatically asked. If there was any part of the night I wanted to document, it was her image. Right there.

The smile she had been sporting all night suddenly slipped from her face. She stared at me for a second or two as the wind lifted her hair and made it float around her head. My yearning to photograph her grew even stronger.

"I've never let anyone use my camera before," she eventually said, her tone very serious.

"I promise you that I will not hurt it in any way. I just… I want to take your picture. Wouldn't your mum like to see that?" I tried to ask persuasively. Her expression didn't change.

I felt like I only had a few seconds to capture just how perfect she looked. Soon the sun would be too high or the wind would stop blowing or she would move and then the moment would be lost forever.

"Please?" I asked, holding out my hand and praying she'd give a stranger her most prized possession.

She hesitated for a moment and then moved to lift the strap from her shoulders. I wanted to punch the air in victory.

"Just… don't drop it. Put the strap around your neck. Careful…" she handed it to me so gingerly it was like holding a baby. Imagine having to hold the head up and everything.

"Okay now stay _right where you are_," I commanded as I held the camera to my eye. She looked back at me, her eyes still full of worry and discomfort.

"Nat, you look like someone just told you your dog died," I sighed in frustration.

"Wow, thanks Tom. You sure know how to charm a girl."

I laughed, which caused her to laugh, which in turn made the entire landscape light up and I hurriedly pushed my finger down on the shutter button. The camera clicked as the photo was taken.

"Can I have my camera back now?" She asked, smiling apologetically as she came over and held it in her hands. I brought the strap over my head and placed it around hers. She seemed to relax almost instantly.

"Look at the picture," I grinned, extremely proud of the scene I had caught. She lifted one of her eyebrows at me as a small smile flicked over her face.

"Why?"

"Because _you _look like Christmas," I laughed, urging her to bring up the photo. She held my gaze for a second before finally playing back the pictures.

We both stared at it for a few seconds, taking the entire sight in. I've never considered myself a photographer, and even after taking her beautiful picture I still don't, but I felt extremely lucky to have been the one to take it. I felt like I'd brought something beautiful into the world.

'This actually looks kind of good," she said after a few moments in a thoughtful voice.

"Are you kidding me? It's flipping amazing," I replied, almost insulted.

_Kind of good? _Was she insane?

"Well, I mean the lighting is good-"

"The lighting is _great_."

"And I like that my shadow doesn't cross over the bit of the snowman-"

"Yes, that's also _great_."

"But… I don't know… I guess I'm just not used to seeing _me _in pictures…" Nat finally sighed, looking away from the camera display.

"What, have you never been in a picture before?" I laughed jokingly.

"Well not really," she answered honestly, shrugging her shoulders. "I prefer to be the one _taking _them, obviously."

"You're saying you've never been in a picture before? Not even a family photo or something?" I did not believe her for a second and I made sure she knew it.

"Of course my _body _has been in pictures… but those are always staged and posed, aren't they? So they're not really me. This though… you managed to make me forget for a split second that you were going to take my picture… and somehow you got that _split second_ in the photo…" she sounded kind of upset.

"So what? You don't like it?" I didn't realize how much I wanted her to like it with me. How come so many girls had such issues appreciating their own bodies? Did she not know how stunning the photo was?

"I'm just… not _used _to it, I guess," she sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear to stop it from blowing in the wind. I shook my head and stood directly in front of her to block the breeze.

"Yeah well you definitely need to _get _used to it. You said that _I _look like Christmas? If Christmas is supposed to look loving and carefree and joyful and jolly and every other synonym for something _amazing_, that's you in that picture, Love. How have you never seen that before?" I was seriously baffled. She seemed like the kind of girl who didn't have self-esteem issues or anything like that.

"You need to stop or you'll make me blush," she laughed as she – you guessed it – _blushed_.

And then a sort of random thought occurred to me: I could kiss her right now. She was close enough; I'd barely have to move at all. She probably wouldn't resist, not to sound arrogant or anything. And she had really pretty red lips that probably felt smooth and warm and she probably tasted like cherries or strawberries or some other red fruit-

My mind literally went blank as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed _me_.

She'd let her camera hang low around her neck as her hands moved up to my neck. I stood in shock for a good second or two before finally reacting by grabbing her face and holding it closer to mine.

I'd never felt this way kissing someone before. I felt excited and alert, and I felt sensitive to every single brush of her skin against my own. I felt joyous and warm, not like we were standing in the early morning snow. A roaring fire was starting in my chest and raged up through my throat to my lips, connecting her to me in some kind of heated passion.

And she kissed back like she was feeding her own fire.

It felt like we'd only been kissing for a few short seconds even though, in reality, it was probably much longer. I didn't want to stop but there was a part of me that knew it had come to its natural end. We pulled away and just stared at one another, unable to really form coherent words.

"That…" she finally sighed after we both got our breathing back under control. "_Felt _like Christmas."

**"Dead of winter.****  
****Cold hands warm heart.****  
****As pure as snow.****  
****Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.****  
****Now is the winter of our discontent.****  
****Left out in the cold."**

**- W. B. Yeats**


End file.
